


O' Death

by jongnugget



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Death, Fantasy, Four Horsemen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongnugget/pseuds/jongnugget
Summary: No wealth no land no silver or goldNothing satisfies me but your soul.





	O' Death

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up today wanting to write something angsty, and I was raking my brain the whole day but no idea came to me until like midnight, when I suddenly remembered the song **[O' Death](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6rb_ZWy1pA)**.   
>    
>  So..yeah....that song + Kyungsoo + Jongin + my weirdass brain came up with this fic ~~drabble~~
> 
> Yeah....yeah I wrote a drabble based on a song again, go figure. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Warning:** Rated M for death, implied mental illness and implied suicide
> 
>  **A second warning (for good measure):** Please, do not read if you are sensitive to such content. PLEASE, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO SUCH CONTENT!!!! This entire story is revolving around it, so if you're not comfortable with reading about it, don't continue. Thank you. 

_Oh death  
             Won't you spare me over another year?_

 

Time is subjective.

He wasn’t sure when time started. He wasn’t sure how time worked.

He supposed it didn’t really matter.

At least to him, a being – an entity – that had no need to keep track on time.

Be it sunrise or sundown, be it summer or winter, people’s lives always ended.

Death didn’t come with a clock.

It was silly to come face in face with a person whose flame had faltered already and to be asked for just one more year. To be begged for just a few more months.

It was silly, because to those people, to those simple beings, it seemed like a month, a year, maybe even five – it was a long time.

To Death, however, it was faster than the blink of an eye.

He couldn’t understand the terrified expressions on those faces whenever he blinked, granting them their wish, before raising a hand and beckoning them to follow him. To go with him.

Why people were afraid of the end was beyond him.

Why they were asking for more time was beyond him.

Why they were trying to delay their inevitable meeting was also beyond him.

“Just one more year,” that man in front of him was begging, reality around them starting to fade into black and white. “Just one more year, please… _please_.”

He looked over to the room. To the people gathered around the hospital bed, their figures slowly becoming transparent. To the straight lines on the monitor beside the bed, the dulled sound of a constant beep.

He looked over to the man, eyelids slowly fluttering closed, before the world around them completely faded.

“Time’s up.”

That was all he said before he heard an agonized scream.

Time was fluid.

Even to him, the oldest of all beings in this world, time was a mystery.

 

_Well what is this that I can’t see  
             With ice cold hands taking hold of me_

_Well I am death none can excel  
             I'll open the door to heaven or hell_

 

They said his touch was cold.

When they took his hand and followed him, they said it was the coldest thing they’d ever felt.

He didn’t think so.

It wasn’t him who was cold. It was them.

Their touch – freezing. He could feel that chill traveling through his body and slowly spreading.

A child was holding his hand now. There was a middle-aged woman sobbing and following behind them and three seniors.

“It’s cold.” The child uttered and he almost didn’t hear the tiny, quivering voice. His mind was scattered in thousands of places, his eyes were seeing thousands of images.

“You’ll get used to it. Everyone does.”

“Are we going to the sky now?” the child asked, and he only looked down at those wide and curious eyes. “My mom says people go to heaven when they leave Earth. That’s in the sky, right?” 

He didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because any answer he could have given would be inaccurate.

What happened after he did his job transporting the souls to what he called the Beyond, he didn’t know. He didn’t care.

It wasn’t worth his attention to keep check on the petty fights of angels and demons, of heaven and hell.

What he was doing, it was far bigger than that.

When his mind was in hundreds – thousands – of places at every single moment of eternity, when he was in all these places at once, there was no spare second, month or year left for him to wonder what the souls had chosen to do.

Whether they’ve returned to Earth, whether they’ve been reborn or whether they’ve just chosen eternity, he didn't know.

He only knew that he had to hurry because three more lives had just been added to the queue, after a heavy car accident he had seen playing out right in front of his eyes.  

  
_Oh, death, someone would pray  
             Could you wait to call me another day_

_The children prayed the preacher preached  
             Time and mercy is out of your reach_

 

“You are overworking yourself lately.”

“I wonder whose fault that is.” 

The man in front of him laughed, an eerie laughter that resounded around them.

 _Pestilence_ , people called him.

He knew him as Jongdae. That’s what he had known him as since the beginning of time.

“I was bored. Besides, I was simply doing my job,” the other one supplied before throwing a look at the third man sitting with them on the table. “Unlike others.”

“What do you mean, unlike others?” he perked up immediately. “I am always working.”

“Baekhyun, the last war happened ages ago.”

“War happens every day.” Baekhyun countered, unbothered. “Whether it is two people arguing or two countries firing missiles against one another, it is still war. I don’t see a difference.”

“I do.”

They both looked over to him.

Jongdae seems to find that funny, because he started laughing. Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

They couldn’t possibly understand, just like he couldn’t understand their jobs.

To him, collecting the souls was a constant task.

Just like spreading illness was a constant task to Jongdae – whether it was something small, or an entire wave of disease.

Just like starting wars was a constant task to Baekhyun – whether it was just an argument in a household or a conflict on a massive scale.

Just like causing hunger was a constant task to Minseok – whether it was affecting one single person or wilting the corps of entire continents.

To them, it was just a job.

However, he was the one who always had to deal with the outcome of them messing around. He was the one who had to clean up after them. He was the one who could never catch a break.

“You’re taking all the joy away from my work.” Jongdae said. “It’s no fun when you hurry and collect the souls. I can’t have my time enjoying this.”

“What’s the point of cruelly playing around like that when they will all return to me eventually?”

“Honestly, Kyungsoo…” Jongdae almost whined, while Baekhyun simply laughed.

Death.

Death didn’t have time to fool around.

Death wasn’t like Pestilence or War or Famine.

Death was inevitable. Death was eternal. Death was unbeatable.

His brothers could afford resting. They could afford giving the poor people time and mercy. They could afford giving people the one day, month or year they were asking for.

Kyungsoo couldn’t.

Death knew no time.

  
_I'll fix your feet so you can't walk  
             I'll lock your jaw so you can't talk_

_I'll close your eyes so you cant see  
             This very hour come and go with me _ 

 

Something was different as he looked into the eyes of the boy staring at him.

There was no trace of fright on his face. Maybe only confusion.

The world around them was still vibrant. Maybe he had been early.

“Am I dead?”

Kyungsoo looked over to the bed in the room. The boy was lying there, tubes and needles in his arms, ugly scrapes on his face. An unfortunate accident. Kyungsoo often wondered if Baekhyun had anything to do with car accidents.

He had to ask him sometime.

He just stared back at the boy when he saw doctors and nurses running into the room, hearing the dull screams and urges, commands spoken by the medics.

“You will be, soon.”

Kyungsoo threw one last look to the monitor, indicating no pulse. Then he looked back at the young boy.

He didn’t seem frightened like most people. He only seemed confused, staring at his own body, then back to Kyungsoo.

“Are you an angel?”

He wasn’t offended by the question. He wasn’t impressed by it either.

“I am Death.”

Kyungsoo saw the world around them slowly starting to fade at the corners. The vibrant colors turning into black and white.

 _Soon_.

The boy seemed surprised as he shrugged.

“You don’t look anything like what I imagined Death would look like.” That boy said. “You are beautiful.”

The commands of the doctor in the room sounded distanced, as Kyungsoo just stared straight at that boy. At his pitch black hair and soft lips and intrigued eyes.

Humans were mostly too busy begging him for more time, they were usually too busy screaming and crying.

For the first time since the very Beginning, someone was calling him beautiful.

Beauty, just like time, was fluid.

It came and went. It wasn’t something that lingered.

But in a way, he was immortal. He was immortality.

He didn’t know what it meant to be beautiful.

He just tilted his head, eyes finding their way back to that boy’s eyes.

The dull commands in the room sounded louder and there was a bright flash of light around them.

Kyungsoo threw a quick glance at the hospital bed. The colors were wavering. They weren’t quite black and white yet, but they also weren’t quite vibrant.

He shot a look towards the boy who was still curiously staring at him.

Thousands of images were invading his mind and thousands of deaths were calling for him. He was busy.

He did not have time to linger here.

Death let out a breath and there was another bright flash of light around them.

The color returned to every corner of his vision.

The straight line on the monitor peaked.

The relieved sigh of the doctor resounded in the room.

Death left alone that day.

  
_Death I come to take the soul  
             Leave the body and leave it cold_

 

He was used to people fearing him.

He couldn’t understand it, but he was used to it.

Lives were fragile.

People died because of Jongdae’s boredom, because of Baekhyun’s games and because of Minseok’s hunger.

But people also died because of negligence.

Because they didn’t check both sides of the streets before crossing.

Because of old age.

Because of fire or water.

Because they tripped and fell down a flight of stairs.

Because they didn’t see the animal waiting to bite them.

Many left because they had made that choice for themselves. Many took their own lives.

So what Kyungsoo could not understand was why they looked frightened and scared of him when he went to greet them.

When they had chosen to leave, why were they reluctant to actually _go_?

He didn’t know. He didn’t understand.

But there were things even he couldn’t undo.

He would just take the hand of that person and he would feel the chill, before he guided yet another soul to the Beyond.

  
_My head is warm my feet are cold_   
_Death is moving upon my soul_

 

Time was fluid.

Sometimes he didn’t have any time. Sometimes he had all the time in the world.

Death could be quick, but death could also be slow. In any case, death was inexorable.

Death itself was painless. If people wanted to complain about pain, maybe they had to have a talk with his brothers instead of screaming in his face and blaming him for their suffering.

Up to this day, that boy from the car crash was still lingering in his eternal mind.

It wasn’t like he was the first one who hadn’t raised his voice once he’d seen him.

Many people greeted him kindly. Many seniors smiled at him wistfully and many kids were too young to understand who he was and where they were going.

That boy, however, had been talking to him. _About_ him.

He had been the first one who hadn’t asked what would happen from then on.

It made him stand out, somehow.

Kyungsoo couldn’t help but let his mind wander sometimes. Check up on that boy.

He was growing.

His skin was glowing and his eyes were deep and curious.

He was odd, Kyungsoo could tell. Even for a human, he was odd.

That boy was avoiding other people, he was spending most of his time alone.

Almost every time Kyungsoo’s mind travelled to check on him, he was alone. With a book, or with a computer. But alone.

He was observing him sometimes, when there wasn’t much traffic, and he’d notice that he wasn’t eating much.

But it wasn’t Minseok’s fault, he could tell. That boy just didn’t seem to want to eat most of the time.

He was observing him and he’d notice that there was something odd about his mind and thoughts. Something wrong with them.

He wondered if it was Jongdae’s doing or if it was yet another flaw of human nature.

That boy, the more he watched him, the more he couldn’t understand.

Most humans he had seen enjoyed living.

They would go out, meet friends. Treat themselves to nice meals and have as much fun as possible.

Not this boy, though.

He would sit alone for the longest of time, researching things on his computer and looking for books in the library.

People were different to understand.

Maybe Kyungsoo’s mind was too complicated to understand the way they worked.

Or maybe, his mind was not complicated enough.

  
_Oh death how you treating me  
             You closed my eyes so I can't see_

_Well you hurting my body you make cold  
             You run my life right out of my soul_

 

It was the mere curiosity that pushed him to observe that boy more.

To pay attention to the things he was reading and listening to.

And the first time he actually realized what it was, Kyungsoo had been a little surprised.

That boy was reading about death.

Lores, myths, history, he was reading everything he could find on the subject.

 _Fiction_ , Kyungsoo thought to himself, mind scattered all over the world, but he was only paying attention to the image of that boy sitting in his bed and attentively reading an ancient looking book.

All those books, all those myths, they were fiction. Bedtime stories.

There was nothing real about them.

No one who knew what Death was really like could have written a book about it.

Yet, it was intriguing that this boy was reading about it. About him.

Maybe it was his fault, for giving him that spare second, for giving him the chance to live.

Maybe it was his fault, for letting him see him.

Maybe it was his fault this boy now thought he was losing his mind.

Maybe it was his fault this boy was reading all these books trying to convince himself that he wasn’t completely mad.

Maybe, just maybe, Kyungsoo might have made a mistake.

He knew giving people chances wasn’t a good idea. Now it was him unintentionally inflicting pain on a poor soul, not his brothers.

He tried to look for a part of his being that regretted this, but he couldn’t.

He didn’t regret letting this boy live.

Because his words were still echoing in his mind and his curious glance was still vivid in his sight.

He didn’t regret letting him live, because he knew he’d eventually come back to him.

Everyone did.

 

 _Oh death please consider my age_  
             Please don't take me at this stage  
             My wealth is all at your command  
             If you will move your icy hands

 

“I’ll give you-…anything! I’ll give you anything, just please-…please let me go back.”

Kyungsoo cocked his eyebrow a little, the man in front of him wearing a suit and carrying a suitcase. He had a gaping hole in his chest and blood trickling down his front.

“I can’t.” he said simply.

He couldn’t.

For humans, body and soul coexisted. Even if he wanted to return a soul, the body wouldn’t handle it.

Besides, Kyungsoo had learned his lesson with bringing back souls.

“Please!” that man beckoned again, panic and anger in his voice. “I can’t die just yet! I’m still young, I-… I’ll do anything…”

It was funny, Kyungsoo thought, how some people thought they could give him something and get it their way. That was such a human way of thinking. Giving and receiving.

Kyungsoo didn’t understand that either. People were truly fascinating.

“It’s time to go.”

Kyungsoo tuned out the begging as his mind scattered in other far corners of the world and he met more souls, ready to get them back home.

 

_No wealth no land no silver or gold  
             Nothing satisfies me but your soul_

 

There was a bright flash of light and there he was.

Standing right in front of him, of all people. That boy.

He hadn’t grown much since the last time he had looked at him. He was probably twenty-something, at most. His face seemed matured, but his eyes were just the same – wide and curious.

Kyungsoo’s eyes slowly shifted from his face down to his body.

There was blood dripping down from his hands. Blood streaming down from his wrists.

His eyes moved over to the room around them, the color slowly fading.

The body was in a bathtub and there were confident slits on the wrists. The water was overflowing and it was colored pink. The boy’s head was lifelessly resting on the side.

Kyungsoo felt the corners of his lips tugging down, as he refused to blink.

Maybe if he held on just for one extra moment someone would arrive and get help. Maybe the color wouldn’t completely fade out around them.

But why? Why was he willing to give this boy another chance.

He just stared at the body and the water painted pink by his blood, refusing to blink and refusing to look for answers.

However, he felt a resistance.

The soul was struggling.

Kyungsoo shot his eyes up to the boy in front of him. His hands were curled into fists and his eyes were unwavering.

The soul _wanted_ to be taken.

Death usually only knew fear and horror.  Acceptance, at best.

Death didn’t know this.

“You’re early.” Death said, quietly, but finally blinked and the color resumed fading.

Slowly, but surely.

The boy in front of him shook his head.

“Not really. I’m actually quite late.”

The world around them turned black and white.

 

_Oh death  
             Won't you spare me over another year?_

 

“You spared me once.”

Kyungsoo just blinked, trying not to pay attention to the fact that this boy’s hand was warm, no icy chill running through him.

“You still had life in you back then,” he replied. “It wasn’t my time to take you yet. Neither was now.”

“I had to know for sure I hadn’t been imagining. Now I know I’m not crazy.”

People were odd, Kyungsoo thought to himself as he continued walking forward with that boy’s hand in his palm. They were odd and their curiosity was dangerous.

“What is your name?”

“Jongin.” The boy replied. “What about you? Your name can’t really be Death, can it?”

“Call me Kyungsoo. My friends call me Kyungsoo.”

Odd. Really odd.

“Kyungsoo,” the boy said slowly, as if testing out the sound of Death’s name. “That’s nice. So what happens now?”

Peculiar.

That was the word that could describe Jongin the best, Kyungsoo thought to himself, leading the boy forward.

He was peculiar with his genuinely curious glance and his calmness.

Peculiar with his mortally simple questions, as if he was talking to an old friend and not Death himself.

“Now you choose what happens.” Kyungsoo replied. The words felt odd coming out of his mouth. “You can go back, or you can stay.”

“Stay where?”

Kyungsoo hummed in thought.

He couldn’t really explain what the Beyond was. It was nowhere. It was heaven and hell, it was Earth, it was the sky and the stars.

“Everywhere, I suppose.”

“I see.” Jongin said, walking side to side with him. “Will you be there?”

Kyungsoo threw him a glance, a very quick one and a very perplexed one.

“I am always there. I will be there forever.”

“How long is forever?”

Kyungsoo couldn’t help the little smile that tugged at his lips. It felt foreign, but not necessarily bad.

The one question he had been asking himself since the very beginning.

How long was forever?

How long was a second?

How long was a month?

How long was a year?

He wrapped his fingers tighter around Jongin’s palm.

“Time is subjective.”

 


End file.
